


Downtime shenanigans

by elletromil



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We all have something to pass the time when we're on downtime Eggsy. Mark works at a barber shop, Merlin volunteers at a library, Richard makes pastries. And this is what I do."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Geraint

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw that post on tumblr http://10ve-me.tumblr.com/post/110029791209/one-of-them-is-not-like-the-others and it got me thinking what if Kingsman agents had a more simple job to keep them occupied during their downtime? What kind of shenanigans would they get up to with these normal jobs? Would they all offer things like free knife fight? Or would some just take it as a way to be something else than the killers they're trained to be?

“So, anyone took Mark on his offer?”

“It happens.”

Bill threw an incredulous look at his barber via the mirror, but the older man only shrugged in answer.

Bill turned his eyes to the aforementioned Mark, before snorting derisively. As if the barber who had everything of the calm middle-aged gentleman, right down to the bespoke suit, would be adept at knife fighting. It was probably just a simple little quirk of the shop, something to make the costumer’s imagination run wild while getting their hair cut.

Bill was still looking when Mark finished shaving his costumer and let him have a look at his reflection. The costumer, who could have been the barber’s twin for as much as they looked alike in their suit, stroked his chin then nodded approvingly before getting up from the chair.

“Impeccable work as always, Geraint.” Or at least, that’s what he thought he heard the other man called Mark, but he could have been mistaken. “Thank you.”

Then, without any warning, the man suddenly attacked Mark with a knife Bill would have swear came out of nowhere. He gasped in surprised, but Mark only blocked the attack calmly, riposting with a slash of his own with his straight razor. They started fighting in earnest, none even coming close to making a scratch into the other’s clothes, but it was plain to see that it wasn’t from lack of trying.

He tried making eye contact with his own barber, but the old man was still trimming his hair, seemingly undisturbed by the fight happening not two feet besides him.

It stopped as abruptly as it started, the two man not even breathing hard.

“As swift as ever. Good. I’ll make sure to tell Merlin.”

The barber beamed as if he had been told the happiest news in his life. “Thank you, Hector, much appreciated.”

Polite smiles were exchanged as money changed hands and Hector left the shop, looking for all the world as if he had only got a shave and hadn’t just partake in a deadly fight.

“I’ll pop out to get some lunch, do you want anything?” Mark asked, after putting away his shaving kit.

Still completely unfazed, the old barber took a moment to think about it, only to shrug indifferently. “Just get me whatever you’ll be having.”

“Okay. I’ll be back in a few.”

Once Mark was gone, Bill finally managed to catch the barber’s eyes in the reflection. “He just had- he just had a fight… A knife fight!” he finally managed to stammer through saying.

“Yes," the old man shrugged again, unconcerned. "It happens.”

Bill stared for a long time, unbelieving. He stared until the old man was pleased with his work, stared while he was getting up from the chair and stared while he paid. He stared while he passed by Mark a few steps outside of the barber shop.

It took a long time for the shock to fade away, leaving only a sad disappointment behind.

Bill knew, he just _knew_ no one would ever believe him.


	2. Percival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve given a bit more thought to the background of this. You can either see this as happening before the movie, so all basically canon-ish, or if you are like me this happen all before/during/after movie and both James and Harry are alive. Now I know that Harry surviving the shot is more believable than James surviving getting cut in two, but I don’t give a fuck. James is alive. Anyway as I never give a clear time period in this, you can chose to see it anyway you like it. But just saying, you wanna swim in the Nile? I’m right there with you.
> 
> Also because it's me we're talking about, there will be traces of Percilot in this.
> 
> And last quick note, my headcanon is that Percival real name is Richard.

“Anthony, you see those cupcakes? I don’t care what happens, no one is to touch them, okay?”

Anthony only nodded eagerly. Working at the _Round Oven_ was a pretty easy uneventful job most of the times and their boss, when he was in, was this laid-back gentleman who could bake anything on this green Earth better than anyone’s grandmother. However, because Anthony had been manning the cash for several years already, if there was one thing he had learned never to do, it was going against anything the boss said.

Richard might have been a laid-back bloke, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t be scary as hell. He’d been there that one evening Richard had beaten the crap out of a couple of thugs who had wanted to rob the shop at closing time using only a whisk and a dish towel. He still wasn’t sure if he ought to be amazed or horrified at the memory.

But the pay and the hours were good and it was entertaining to try and find out what these gentlemen meeting around the table at the back of the shop once every few months were all about.

*

As soon as he saw them, Richard took the tray of cupcakes and set it on the table before sitting down with them.

Three of the five men carefully selected a cupcake each, but it took only one glance at Richard’s manic grin for James to stay his hand. Merlin narrowed his eyes at both of them, before following James’ example. If Lancelot the thrill seeker wasn’t tempting fate with any of these cupcakes, neither would Merlin.

There was a disgusted exclamation from the other side of the table and they turn just in time to see Kay swallowing a bite with great difficulty.

“See Kay, that’s why you never go with the ones that look the most perfect. Our Percival takes great delight in spoiling them. Now you’ll have to pay.” The two other men at the table each took a confident bite in their own pastry, only to end up grimacing in revulsion.

“What the hell Percival?” Bors exclaimed after painstakingly swallowing. “That was most foul, what did you put in those things.”

His only answer was Percival smug smirk and James’ laughter. “I guess that means you three are paying then.”

“You should pay, you cheated, you did not take one!” Bors quickly protested, only to be cut off by Richard shaking his head.

“There's nothing in the rules of Russian Cupcakes against it. In fact the only rule is that if anyone eat a bad cupcake then it's your turn to pay for the others.”

“But what is to say they wouldn’t have chosen a bad one then?”

“They surely would have. Each one of this batch is a _bad_ one. They’ve only been more clever than you.” He waited a bit to see if there was more protestations coming, but it wasn’t like any of the men present could really argue with him. Without Percival, there would simply have no Russian Cupcakes as well as no delicious treats to share in good company. Satisfied no one would complain again about the way he conducted the game, Richard got up from his seat. “Same as usual for everyone?”

They all nodded in answer but as soon as Richard was back into the kitchen, the three Knights who had the displeasure of eating one of the bad cupcake turned to glare at James and Merlin.

“You had inside information.” Hector said, sounding more like a petulant child than anything else.

James snorted, not offended in the least by the accusation, and Merlin could do nothing than laughed at the other man.

“I only know him enough to know it’s suspicious when he grins and there is no building in the vicinity for him to blow off.”

And now that they were thinking about it, it was indeed suspicious. Not that Richard scantly smiled, but mischievous smirk were, at best, unusual for him outside of a mission.

“Seriously, Hector, if you think Percival would go easy on James, you don't know him at all.” Merlin added. “The man would probably put razor blades in Lancelot's food if he could get away with it.”

They all laughed because, even if Percival and Lancelot had had that thing going on since their first team mission, it always had something borderline antagonistic.

“He did try actually,” James’ voice cut through their laughs. “But it was adding an extra weight to the _Éclair_ so I ended up not eating it.” His eyes seemed lost in the distance, a dreamy smile stretching his lips, as if he was remembering a pleasant memory. The others around the table all shuddered when the reason behind James starting to take such tiny forkful out of his meals a few years ago became painfully clear.

“And now you're properly suspicious about food.” Richard, who had come back with pieces of cake, pie and tea for everyone in the meantime, stopped behind James and put his hand warmly on his shoulder.

“Yeah, it actually saved my life a few months back.” James put his own hand on top of the other agent’s, leaning his head backward so he could smile at him upside down. He was rewarded by a quick peck on the tip of his nose before Richard took his seat beside him once more. The other men around the table only looked disturbed at the display of affection. On one hand they were kind of cute, but on the other hand they were also both obviously crazy. The only redeeming quality to their relationship was that they were also clearly madly in love with each other.

They were saved from further contemplating the relationship by the doorbell ringing and someone hurrying to their table.

“My excuses for being late, the meeting dragged later than what was expected.” Harry sat down on the empty chair, looking at the piece of _Forêt Noire_ already set on the empty place as if it were the Holy Grail itself.

“Galahad should be paying. He's purposefully always late.” Bors grumbled around his mouthful of cherry pie.

Richard rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Again the rules of Russian cupcakes-”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” quickly interrupted Hector, not wanting to get into an argument. However, Bors did have a point concerning Galahad perpetual lateness. “You should at least try to get back at him, though.”

Richard visibly tensed up at his suggestion, Merlin nearly choked on his _tiramisu_ when he started laughing and Harry managed to exude smugness without his expression changing in any way. The others smiled predatorily, because these were all the signs that there was a juicy story just waiting to be told.

“Oh he did...” finally started Merlin, once his breathing was back under control. “And it was a thing of beauty seeing him fail so... Spectacularly.”


	3. Merlin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes you are not dreaming! I haven’t forgotten about this story, in fact this chapter was life more than half written when I opened the file over the week-end… Even though the last time I updated it was months ago. But if you'd see the length of my writing list, I think you could forgive me.

Merlin is busy putting books back into their rightful place on the shelves.

It is mind numbing work, but it’s also a very much appreciated change of pace. Volunteering at the library allows him to re-center himself, to truly relax after days of exhausting work at Kingsman. That the books don’t depend on him for their survival is also very refreshing.

There’s a background noise of students chattering quietly among themselves and the clicks of those rapidly typing away on their keyboards. Usually, the librarians don’t tolerate talking outside of the rooms specifically designed for teamwork, but since it’s the start of end of term exams, they allow the students a bit more leeway than customary.

This is why he doesn’t stop his own work when he hears a desperate groan from a table situated right down the row. It’s probably just another poor soul in need of exteriorizing their frustration, something Merlin understand far too well, even if he himself tends more towards shooting or blowing things up instead.

He’s ready to forget the incident until a voice raises again from the same spot.

“What?! No, no, nononono, you can’t do that you useless piece of shite! Not to me! Not now! Come on babe, tell me you’re only kidding me…” By now he’s abandoned the books to walk down the row of bookshelves, just in time to see a young woman crumbles on a table besides a laptop that must be hers. “Noooo! Whyyyyy?”

And Merlin is not usually moved by the misfortune of others, but he sympathizes deeply with the plight of students, remembers much too well his own years at uni and the misery that was the final weeks of term. Also he’s pretty sure that slamming one’s head against the wood of the library table can’t be good for one’s well-being.

“What seems to be the problem here?”

The student visibly startles, turning swiftly to look at Merlin. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realised I was being so loud…” Her apology trails off in an embarrassed chuckle.

“It’s alright, but I didn’t ask for an apology, but rather what was wrong.”

The young woman seems hesitant to answer, not that Merlin can blame her. For all intents and purposes, he is a stranger to her, but he knows the kind of merits having a sympathetic ear to complain to can have when one is exhausted. It’s the major reason Harry and him are still such good friends after all. Years upon years of mutual ranting tend to bond people together better than anything else.

“It’s just that…” She bites her lower lip, still unsure, but after a look at Merlin confirms that the man does seem to know what he’s getting into, she starts telling him the cause of her distress. “I’ve been working for hours on this fucking thesis and I was nearly done and I know I should have made a copy of my work but I didn’t ‘cause I was saving it, but this laptop is _bloody shite_ and died and now I’ve lost everything and it’s due for in two days and… Oh my god, it’s due in two days how am I supposed to-?”

She breaks off in semi-hysterical sobs, letting her head fall onto the table.

Merlin’s not one for physical contact usually, but he makes an exception this time, patting her shoulder as comfortingly as he can muster. It takes a long time before she gets herself back under control and Merlin has reached a decision in the meantime.

“Sorry,” she sniffs pitifully, but Merlin shakes his head to indicate she should think nothing of it. Everyone in her situation would have broken down.

“Look, this is what you’re going to do. You’re going to leave your laptop with me for a few hours and I’ll see if I can resuscitate it. During that time, you’re going to take this,” he reaches into his pocket to get his wallet out and gives her one of her credit card, “and you’re going to go treat yourself to a meal at Orlando’s. They’ll make you sit in the back because frankly you look like shit and you’d scare their customers away otherwise, but give them this card first thing and they’ll treat you like your the bloody Queen herself.”

She’s about to protest, Merlin just _knows_ it, so he only gets hold of the laptop and starts walking towards the librarian’s office she kindly let him use. She hurries off after him, but he only turns when she catches him by one of his sleeves.

“Seriously Miss, you got nothing to fear. Either I’ll have your laptop back on again once you’re back or it will truly be dead and I’ll personally go tell your teacher of its demised and ask him for an extension for you.”

He’s a bit surprised when he suddenly gets hugged to within an inch of his life, the student like a broken record of _thank you_ s.

It’s not the first time he’s decided to help a student with computer problems, but it’s the first time his actions elicit such a response.

The hug is over as soon as it started and Merlin is left standing, probably looking more than a bit dumbfounded.

Norah, the librarian, pats him on the shoulder with a warm smile. “You’re a good sort Merlin. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”


End file.
